


If At All

by Kennel_Boy



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 07:57:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5735776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kennel_Boy/pseuds/Kennel_Boy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little bit of pre-Hard Way Home summertime fluff involving Jael, a friend, and lessons about halla back in Clan Sabrae.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If At All

It had been a wet summer, and the Brecilian Forest was drowning in a muggy haze. The oppressive heat seemed to sap the will to move from all the forest denizens, and Seisyll Eralinan of Clan Sabrae was no exception. Still, he was a dutiful child and didn’t like to neglect his lessons. So, armed with the last of a batch of honey-sorrel ice cream and the shade of the oak grove as meager shield against the weather, he took himself to the halla pen and leaned against the fence rails to study the herd.

He’d been apprenticed to Maren since his eleventh birthday, over four years now, and he sometimes despaired of knowing the halla half as well as she did. The current lesson was on how to spot potential, how to read the future of the herd in the set of a stag’s antlers or the strength of a fawn’s legs. Not that there was much to look for today; the halla were acting as lazy as he felt. But at least they were all inside of the loose boundaries of the pen, or within a few feet of it. That meant they were feeling secure and relaxed enough to sleep away the balmy afternoon. All save for old Silfa, who was nosing up hopefully to a dark-skinned elf also leaning on the fence rails… oh.

Seisyll sat up a little straighter, doing his best to brush his pale, heat-frizzy hair back behind his ears. He hadn’t seen Jael Mahariel come up to the fence (or had he been there all along?) and the other boy was most definitely a more interesting subject than the herd.

It wasn’t hard to see potential in Jael at all. He was clumsy and knock-limbed now, but he was also already as tall as some of the adults in camp. Once he put on muscle and got used to his own height, he’d be a warrior to rival the Clan’s warmaster. He was already showing it – not a month gone, Jael had lain in wait for a feral dog that had been stalking around their last camp. True it had taken him three arrows to kill the stinking thing, but the important part was that he’d risked himself for the herd. Shem dogs were worse than wolves; they didn’t have the wariness of the People that wild things did, and they almost always carried disease and vermin. Stalking it himself had been a brave deed, and it had infected Seisyll with the sort of boldness he’d never managed with any of the other youths his own age. It had almost seemed another person who’d caught up with Jael later and…

Seisyll looked away quickly, his face warming in a way that had nothing to do with the weather. He still wasn’t sure where he stood with Jael. They had been friends before. And Jael had certainly been nice to him since their time together at the lakeside… but was he any kinder than before? Any more attentive? Should he have to be? They hadn’t made promises, after all. Seisyll glanced down at his empty bowl. Was letting someone have the last of the ice cream just friendship or did it mean something more?

A sudden snorting and stomping drew his attention back to Jael and Silfa. Jael was on the halla’s back now, one arm wrapped around her sleek neck, the other gently stroking, trying to settle her as she danced in place. As Silfa quieted, Jael started to straighten up… at which point she simply kicked up her heels and dashed off, dumping him onto the ground like a load of firewood.

Seisyll sighed. This again. It seemed as if Jael had been trying to ride the halla like his idolized Emerald Knights of old since he’d been old enough to walk, and all he had to show for it was a score and more of injuries.

“Aren’t you tired of being thrown around yet?” he asked.

Jael picked himself up just long enough to walk over and flop back down with his back against a fence post. Seisyll swallowed his next words and hoped his quickening heart wasn’t giving him away.

“I thought Silfa liked me,” Jael grumped.

“She does,” Seisyll protested.

“I’ve been bringing her clover whenever I find it, and she still shook me off.” Jael’s dark eyes followed the halla accusingly. “Ungrateful old thing.”

And just like that, Seisyll forgot his tripping heart and flushed face.

“If she didn’t like you, she’d have stepped on you to teach you a lesson.” He bit his tongue to avoid adding a “so there” to his lecture.

“Halla aren’t stupid, Jael,” he went on, “and they aren’t horses. If they let you ride them, it’s because they trust you like they’d trust their own _hahren_ to lead them, and because they love you enough to want to go where you go, even if it takes them away from the herd.

“Think of those stories about the Emerald Knights you love so much. Their mounts tolerated wolves for the love of their riders. They knew they were going to be hurt or killed if they charged into battle, but they’d rather risk death than leave them to fight alone. You don’t forge a bond like that by coming around the halla pen every other day with a handful of sweet leaves. So do it right if you’re going to do it at all, and don’t treat halla like shem beasts broken to the saddle.”

Jael looked away and stared down at the ground, frowning. Seisyll focused his attention on the sun filtering through the branches, trying to ignore the way his heart was trying to hammer out of his chest. No, it didn’t matter if Jael was brave and nice and handsome… he was still wrong. And if Seisyll was going to tend the halla some day, then they had to come first over everything.

And he’d keep telling himself that until the urge to bury himself in the nearest badger den passed.

Jael stood and brushed himself off.

“You’re right,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, gaze still cast downward. “I’m not being fair.” He finally looked up, but his gaze bypassed Seisyll to seek out Silfa. She was among the herd again scratching delicately behind one ear with her hind foot, seemingly none the worse for having her honor so besmirched. “I’ll bring her something really nice later to apologize,” he promised, then turned to go.

Seisyll had almost decided it was safe to breathe again when Jael turned back around. This time, he was looking right at Seisyll with those intense, night-storm eyes of his.

“No one ever explained it to me like that before,” Jael admitted. His lips tugged into an unexpectedly warm, hopeful smile. “Would you go with me to check the fishing traps once it cools down a little? I wouldn’t mind hearing more about the halla and the Knights.”

“I…”

Breathe!

“Yes, of course. I’d be happy to.”

Jael nodded and walked off, presumably already on the hunt for an appropriate apology gift.

Seisyll sat very still as Silfa ambled up and sniffed the inside of his abandoned ice cream bowl in mild curiosity. Then, unable to think of anything else to do with himself, he turned and hugged the old doe as hard as he could, muffling a happy squeal against her neck. And if it was another assault on the poor halla’s dignity… well, two apologies in one day wouldn’t hurt her.

**Author's Note:**

> [The idea about the Dalish having ice cream is by Charamei](http://charamei.tumblr.com/post/132597636449/i-think-we-need-to-talk-about-the-dalish-and-ice), and I adore it. It's not that I dislike srs bizness headcanon about the Dalish, understand, we just get so little of it that's just plain fun!


End file.
